Isolation
by AnonymouslyAddicted
Summary: Isolation. Even together, mostly apart. Slightly AU.


**A/N** : I've been struggling with this since the episode. I know I already wrote my take on the ending of the last episode, but it didn't quiet down my need for more. This is partly AU, or at least I hope so. I don't think I'll survive watching this actually happen. Also, it's sort of a ramble, I'm not sure there's a story structure here. I just needed to get it out there. I hope it's okay. Would love to know your thoughts! One more week to go!

* * *

 **Isolation**

She was sitting on the hospital bed. One nurse was plastering her hand, the other was carefully putting a bandage over the wound on her head. The face mask covering her mouth and nose, providing her with air as her chest was heaving. Outside of her room stood Matt and Frank, guarding her from anything else that could've hurt her. She urged them to get medical care as well but they both refused to leave her, both waiting for her panic attack to subside. They have been with her long enough to know. They never actually saw her with an attack, but Henry instructed them countless of times, preparing them for a chance it might happen when he wasn't around. He made sure they always carried a bottle of her pills, just in case. And he made them swear they won't leave her side until the attack is over.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. "Elizabeth, where are you? Are you okay?" she sighed. He couldn't even call her. News of the explosion broke and she chose not to call him. She has been trying to reach him, and he refused to take her calls, she hoped that maybe his worry would break him. But it didn't. She tried to take a deep breath, but she was lacking air as it was. Every single part of her body hurt, but not as much as the pain he just caused her. "I'm okay. I'm on Air Force One" she texted back.

As she got on Air Force One, she crawled into the bed in the guest room, hoping the sleeping pill she took would kick in. She didn't feel like spending 7 hours crying, which she knew she would.

"Bess?" Conrad called from outside. He was pretty hurt as well, but he was shaken from the sight of her pale, weak, unable to breathe. It was the first time he ever saw her like this, the first time he ever saw the affects Iran had on her. He suddenly felt so guilty. For sending her to Iran, for not knowing; for causing Henry to leave, for not being able to help her.

"Yeah" she called, wiping her tears.

He opened the door to find her sitting in bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees. "I know you probably want to be alone, but I need to know that you're okay".

"I am" she nodded. "I'm fine. It's over. Don't worry" she said. She didn't feel like getting into explanations of how her panic attacks worked – she was okay for now, until something else would trigger an attack, and it was bound to happen soon. But she figured if she would just sleep, she could at least postpone the next attack to when she arrives home. And then, maybe, Henry would be there to help her. Maybe.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, and it's probably none of my business, but Henry will come around Bess. You always come out on top, don't worry. I'm sorry I caused this. I am".

"Conrad, as much as I want to blame someone for this, it wasn't your fault. Things happen, and I just hope the damage isn't too deep".

"I'll be right outside if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks" she said, trying but failing to smile.

It was 3am in DC when she arrived home. The house was quiet, the lights were out. Under any other circumstances, he would've waited for her, and if he knew what had happened, he would've picked her up. Instead, she had to climb upstairs and walk into their dark bedroom to find him sound asleep. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him up. With her pajamas on, she crawled into bed next to him and closed her eyes. The glimpse of sleep she caught on the plane was not enough, not even close. The throbbing pain in her arm and her head made her tired and weak, but the loneliness she felt was the thing that broke her.

In his sleep, he turned to his side, sneaking his hand under her arm and around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It made her cry, it made her breath short. She realized it was only a force of habit and if he was awake, he might've even slept in a different room. Feeling her body shaking against his, he awoke. He turned the lights on to find her crawled on her side, crying. Her eyes were closed and she was mumbling to herself. "Breathe, breathe" she kept saying, trying hard to control her heart rate.

"Elizabeth" he called. He noticed her cast and her bandage; he noticed the bruises; he noticed her struggle for air. _She was there_ he realized immediately. He moved to pull her closer to him, but she pushed him away, slipping from his embrace. He was the one to cause this, he doesn't get to fix it. "Let me help you" he said.

She shook her head, shifting so she sat. She leaned her head against the headboard and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, slowly calming herself. She wiped her tears and sighed. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze – angry, upset, worried.

"You were there" he said.

She nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice rising.

"I didn't feel like elaborating much in a text" she answered bitterly.

"You could've called!" he yelled.

" _You_ could've called!" she answered, angry.

"I wasn't ready to hear your voice. I figured if something happened you would call".

"Well, since I wasn't about to die, I figured I would've bother you with my voice. You know, since you clearly didn't want to hear me. I figured you weren't that worried, so there was no point in telling you I was even there".

"You think I don't care about you?"

"I think you're more angry at me than you care about me, yes. I think right now you hate me much more than you love me" she whispered, her eyes welling with tears again.

He reached to wipe her tears, leaning closer to kiss her. He wanted her to feel, to know, just how much he loves her. But she pushed him away. "No. You don't get to kiss me. You don't get to make up for this with a kiss. You're angry, and you need to take it out on someone. And I didn't mind being that someone. I love you enough to take the blame for something I didn't do; I love you enough to stand silently while you treat me like this. I was going to let you have it. And I still am. You can be mad, you can take it out on me. I'll be here waiting for you to calm down. I don't need your comfort when you can't even stand the sound of my voice. So be mad. I just hope that by the time you stop being mad, you'll remember that not so long ago, you used to love me so much that you couldn't stand _not_ hearing my voice".

Lying back in bed, she turned her back to him and closed her eyes. She was willing for sleep to come. She needed to let her body rest, her mind. He turned the lights off and turned his back to her as well. Lying on his side, he crossed his arms. He couldn't sleep, he was too angry. He wasn't even sure why. She had every right to react the way she did. But still. He couldn't believe that she didn't tell him, that she didn't want him to help her. That she was even hurt. He was the one hurting. She didn't get to be hurt as well. He was too angry to realize how ridiculous this was, how unfair. He was too angry to see that she loved him just enough to give him all that he needed to feel better. Even if she was the one to pay the price.

She woke up and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was 11am. She sighed. It was late enough - the kids left for school and he left for work. It gave her enough time to pull herself together.

She walked down the stairs, feeling the pain in her legs. She hit her knees as she fell to the floor after the explosion. She hissed with pain and he jumped from his chair. He walked over to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and helped her down the stairs, leading her to the chair in the kitchen.

"Thank you" she said.

"How bad are your injuries?"

"Just the things you see" she answered shortly. She wanted to say the pain in her heart was much bigger than any bruise he saw on her body. "What are you doing home? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I resigned. I'm going back to Georgetown starting next week" he replied.

"Since when do we make decisions like this without talking to each other first?" she asked, upset.

"I didn't care for your opinion. There was nothing you could say that would made me change my mind. I'm unhappy".

"What makes you so sure I would've tried to convince you to stay? That's why we talk Henry. It's part of our relationship. It's why we work so well. Or used to".

"The same way you told me about what happened in Switzerland, right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I was too busy trying to breathe" she answered, her voice barely above a whisper, yet so angry.

He sank to the chair in front of her. He didn't mean to sound so harsh. He should've asked her how she was, it was more important than anything else. But he was still so angry, he couldn't wrap his head around her decision. He couldn't understand how could she.

"Well it doesn't matter. It's a done deal. Just like you giving away Dimitri".

"I didn't give him away!"

"No, you let Conrad do it. I honestly don't know how you can live with that decision".

"Henry, he's the President. I get to share my opinion but when he asks me to do something, I do it, no arguments. I didn't agree with it, but I could also see why he still did it. And I don't have the luxury of feeling anything. That's the job, I can either do it or leave".

"Then why don't you?! You said you'd never let this risk what we have, but in the moment of truth you chose your work over me, over us". He was yelling by now, his hands closed into fists. He was trying to remind himself that she was his wife, that he loved her, that she could end up with a panic attack because of him. But he had all these feelings bottled down for so long, he was finally letting it all out and there was no containing anything anymore.

"If I quit, will it make you feel better? I can't take that decision back. But if you tell me right now that me being Secretary of State is a threat to our marriage, I will pick up that phone right now and tell Conrad to look for someone else to do this job. Just say the word Henry". She was trying to stay calm; to show him she meant everything she said; that she would quit if he only ask her. Inside she was fuming. She felt her heart begin to race, her blood boiling. She was angry. It wasn't fair to hold this one thing against her. The decision was made regardless of her position as Secretary of State. Quitting was not going to make it better. He had to know that she can't act on world crisis according to his feelings. He happened to be her husband, and she loved him deeply, but he was still only her husband.

He listened carefully, drinking in her words. He wondered how serious she was. She loved her job, that he knew. The question was whether or not she loved him more. He didn't say a word. He watched her as she got up from the chair, as she walked over to the phone. She dialed the number, and waited for the call to go through. "Conrad" she spoke. "We need to talk".

As she hung up, he pulled her to his embrace, holding her tight so she couldn't move. She squealed. He scared her; he was hurting her. Tears formed in her eyes, her heart was beating out of her chest.

"Can you swear to me that you did everything you could to save him?" he asked, not loosening his grip of her.

For the first time in her life, she felt frightened. He wasn't one to hurt her, never. But she suddenly saw a side of him she didn't know. She disappointed him, and it hurt him more than anything he had ever experienced before. "Yes. Still am, I didn't give up" she whispered, barely able to speak.

"Can you promise me you'll never make decisions like that again?"

"No" she shook her head. "I can't. But I can promise you it'll never be a decision I make by choice; I will never be okay with it".

He nodded. "Promise me you'll never keep me out of anything? I need to know that if you say you're okay, that you are okay".

She swallowed her cry as the tears slid from her eyes. "Only if you promise to never make me feel like you hate me so much".

He pressed his lips to her, kissing her desperately. He was tender, unlike his hold. She moved in his arms, trying to release herself. It hurt her. He pulled away from her lips, his hands moving from her arms, letting go of her. "I'm sorry" he said as he realized what he had done. "I... Elizabeth, I'm sorry" he said as he began to cry.

She gave him all she had and more. She was holding to dear life, because she loved him more than anything. But when she realized it was over she began to sob, crawling into his arms as he held her close to him. "I'm sorry too" she mumbled.

"I will never hurt you again. I swear. I'm sorry. I love you. I can't lose you. Baby I'm sorry".

He picked her in his arms as he felt her legs quivering. He carried her to the couch, resting her on her back, stroking her cheeks as her tears kept falling. He kissed her again, promising her all he had and much more.

He sat next her as she snuggled closer to him and fell asleep on his chest. He said a silent prayer asking for the strength to overcome this; the strength to let her lead him to better days. He prayed for her forgiveness, for her heailng; for his.

"Conrad called" he said when she woke up. "I told him you're okay; that we're okay".

"Are we?" she asked.

"We love each other too much not to be".


End file.
